


Mischief and Vanity

by I_Weave_Dreams



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Weave_Dreams/pseuds/I_Weave_Dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony plays babysitter for the night when Loki is brought back to Earth after two years to assist S.H.I.E.L.D. The pair engage in a duel of wits, help each other out with boy problems, and debate who is prettier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mischief and Vanity

“No, absolutely not. I refuse.”

“You’re the only one available, Stark,” said Nick Fury, his hands placed on his hips. “It’s only for tonight.”

“Shouldn’t Thor be the one looking after his brother?” Tony paced on the other side of the table, shifting his attention from the tablet in his hand where he was trying to pick what colors to render one his new clean energy converters and whatever nonsense was coming out of the Director’s mouth.

“Thor is escorting Jane Foster to a safe location until we can be sure his brother can be trusted.”

Tony tapped the screen, changing the shell of the converter from silver to gold. His mouth curled up in a frustrated sneer and he dragged the design into the trashcan. Nothing was going with the red body of the converter. “I didn’t realize S.H.I.E.L.D ran a daycare for insane demi-gods.”

“We don’t, Stark, we -”

“Really?” Tony looked up from the tablet. “Because that’s exactly what it sounds like to me. You are enlisting me to baby-sit Loki, after all, aren’t you?”

Fury’s expression became dull and unamused and his mouth set into a straight line. He had his signature _‘I’m done listening to this bullshit’_ look on his face, and Tony knew that he had exactly ten seconds before Fury showed him why he’d been dubbed the world’s Number One spy. Tony had become well acquainted with that look. The only person who’d been on the receiving end of it more than him, was Clint.

It wasn’t the fear of Fury whipping out a katana and going full scale ninja on their asses that made Clint and Tony immediately cut the shit and accept whatever task he was assigning them. It was the fact that Fury would give them an earful (and by ‘earful’ he meant Fury would shout loud enough to wake hibernating bears because he spoke as if he was eternally stuck on Caps Lock) about the prestige of S.H.I.E.L.D and the honor and responsibility of being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, yada yada yada…Usually with a healthy dose of the endearment ‘Mother Fucker’ thrown in there.

He let the Director hang for a few more seconds because he couldn’t let it seem like he was conceding  _that easily_. Right before his ten seconds were up, Tony let out a dramatic sigh and said, “Fine. But let the record show that I’m doing this against my will, and I’ll be reporting S.H.I.E.L.D for indentured servitude.”

“I don’t care about whatever bullshit you want to do in your free time, Stark,” said Fury, clearly not in the least bit worried about Tony’s threat, “just try not to let Loki out of your sight. Your job is to keep your eye on him at all times. We’re putting him in the tank. I’m sure you’re qualified to handle that?”

“More qualified than you, I think,” said Tony, gesturing at Fury with the hand that was holding the tablet. “I’ll keep  _both_  eyes on him.”

Fury didn’t even crack a smile. Tony wasn’t sure if it was because the Director didn’t appreciate his dry wit and incredible sense of humor, or if it was in his contract that he wasn’t allowed to laugh. Or have fun. Or show signs of human life. He was like those British soldiers who wore those big fuzzy black helmets and were always portrayed in movies as not being allowed to speak or show any emotions.

The stoic soldiers usually appeared as plot devices in montages to show the budding love between two horny teenagers. So it made sense for Clint and Tony to try the same tactic out on Fury. They’d tried to enlist the other Avengers, stating that this was a very important mission, but surprisingly, none of the others believed them.

They’d tried everything. They had once dressed up Bruce in a Puffer fish costume when he was sleeping and then proceeded to poke him awake until he hulked out, wherein which they chanted: “Puffy’s puffing again! Puffy’s puffing again!”

Tony had tapped into the overhead PA system with Clint’s help, and rigged it so that every time Steve spoke, a rendition of ‘God Bless America’ started playing throughout the entire S.H.I.E.L.D building. This lasted for a week because Steve refused to speak after the second day when he’d overheard a couple of computer techs grumbling about the music disrupting their work. And Tony refused to uninstall the software until Steve sang along with the song in front of the entire staff. He’d been hell-bent on getting the Captain to sing ever since he’d discovered Steve playing guitar a couple of months ago. It ended with Natasha sneaking past Tony’s AI system and into his room at night and threatening him very thoroughly if he didn’t disable the system immediately. Tony’s had nightmares ever since.

Clint had spent an entire day up in the rafters, shooting spitballs at the rest of the Avengers (yes, even Natasha, because he apparently has a death wish) and everyone else in the building. Including Fury. Which had everyone ducking in fear all day, going to elaborate lengths to avoid surprise attacks. Tony had designed the spitballs himself, creating a special adhesive that attached to skin and made them impossible to get off unless you were a “mighty warrior”. Thor, of course, thought this was the job for the son of Odin, and spent all day stalking the S.H.I.E.L.D staff and ripping off the spitballs. In actuality, Tony had made the spitballs touch sensitive to Thor’s fingerprint, making him the only one who could get them off. There had been mayhem that day, and the clean up was worse than a Hulk-out.

 

Fury had found none of it amusing. The man was either a god, or Satan. Tony and Clint were leaning towards the latter.

“When is he getting here?” asked Tony.

Just then, Fury’s watch beeped. He looked down at his wrist. “Now. Let’s go.”

Tony set down his tablet and followed Fury through a labyrinth of sliding glass doors, past dozens of people working on high tech computers. In actuality most of them were playing Galaga when no one was looking. Tony occasionally liked to hack into one of their computers and mutate the insect-like enemies into ridiculous sizes and shapes, and wage a war against the player. Tony knows that his hacking has attributed to the rise in game playing. Tony also knows that Fury is aware of this. This is why Tony does it.

They reached a set of doors that were made of steel opposed to glass. They hissed open. In the center of the room was the tank that had originally been built to hold the Hulk, but had since become a holding tank for all captured criminals. Since the first incident with Loki, the only person allowed in the room while a prisoner was in the tank was one of the Avengers. They took shifts watching the criminals. Fury didn’t trust anyone else.

Currently, Steve was standing outside of the tank, his hands crossed over his chest. His eyes were locked onto the figure that was pacing slowly around the tank. The figure was looking the tank over with a contemplative eye, like he was a homebuyer and this was a house his realtor was showing him. 

The demi-god cast Tony and Fury a fleeting glance before going back to his musing. They paused by the doors. Steve reluctantly took his eyes off Loki and walked over to them. Steve was all suited up, and if Tony didn’t know that Steve was the most modest, humble human being on planet Earth, he’d say Steve’s walk was more of a strut from the way his chest was puffed up and his shoulders were straight and pulled back. However, Tony knew that Steve looked like that all of the time because he had the physique worthy of the gods, and on more than one or two hundred occasions, Tony’d felt the urge to get his hands on those abs.

“Director Fury.” Steve nodded his head at the man perpetually dressed in black, and then turned to Tony. “Tony.” He nodded his head in the same brief manner, but Tony caught the hint of a small smile playing on the Captain’s lips. Tony nodded back, while internally his heart thudded a little harder. It’d taken quite a long time to get Steve to call him ‘Tony’ instead of a curt ‘Stark’. Admittedly, that was Tony’s own fault for getting things off on the wrong foot between them, but that was another story entirely.

“Everything is set, Director. The others are waiting on the helipad.”

Fury nodded. “Very good, Captain.” He turned to Tony, the appreciative and altogether civil tone left his voice. “If anything happens tonight, Stark, it’ll be on your head. And I’ve been looking for a target for the agents to practice the new prototype weapons on.”

Tony saluted the director with a quick flick of his fingers. “I’ll do my best, Director. You said to let Loki walk around unsupervised, correct? Something about not wanting to overcrowd him, wanting him to feel at home?”

Fury didn’t dignify that with a response. He nodded at Steve once more and turned to leave, a look on his face that clearly said he was questioning why in the hell he was putting Tony Stark in charge of a former war criminal. It was clear that Tony was not Fury’s first choice. As he shouldn’t be for this. The only thing Tony Stark was good at babysitting was a glass of scotch.

Steve smiled at Tony in that easy way of his and placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Good luck, Stark.”

Tony had no witty retort ready to fling at Steve like he usually did. That may have been due to the fact that Steve was standing uncomfortably close. He was uncomfortably close in the sense that having him this close was making Tony think of all the things he wanted to do to the Captain, many of them probably illegal in other countries. And yet not close enough in the sense that no part of his skin was actually touching Steve’s. Tony’s lips, for example, were not wrapped around Steve’s -

Steve’s hand left Tony’s shoulder, and he backed away from Tony a few steps before turning around to leave. Loki watched Steve go with his hands clasped behind his back. As soon as the Captain left the room, Loki stopped pacing and turned to Tony. He smiled at Tony like he knew his secret. All of his secrets.

Tony wasn’t stupid enough to be baited into asking what he was smiling about. Tony walked forward until he reached the tank, and started circling, doing some smiling of his own. It was the deceptively innocent smile, the one that preceded a flood of smart-ass Tony Stark remarks. The remarks he loved to use to wind people up.

“Glad to see you’re no longer burdened with glorious hair grease,” said Tony, referring to the demi-god’s haircut, which was its previous length of just below his ears. “If you still want those curls without the hassle of plotting world domination, I’ve got some great products you can use.” He held out his hands in offering.

Loki just looked back, following Tony as he circled the cage, still unmoving. “No?” Tony cocked an eyebrow, shaking his head. “You know, if it wasn’t for your brother’s L’Oreal campaign I’d have wondered if Asgardians showered at all.”

Loki’s eyes flashed a little wider.  _Interesting_ , Tony thought, seeing Loki’s reaction to hearing about his brother. Tony decided to hold onto that bit of information for later. The demi-god was being silent for now, but Tony didn’t think Loki was just going to stand there and take being spoken to like this the entire time. He knew Loki was calculating his own perfect moment to speak. But until then, Tony was going to have fun saying whatever the hell he wanted. Part of it was payback to Fury for sticking him with babysitting Loki. He knew the Director would watch the security tape back after tonight, and he’d have his fair share of things to say about Tony trying to provoke Thor’s crazy cat-lady brother.

Tony pointed at Loki. “I see you ditched the head gear.” He was referring to the mouthpiece Thor had made Loki wear over two years ago after they’d caught him. “And from that beautiful smile of yours, I see you’ve taken up brushing your teeth again. What is it with you villains anyway? Do all of you decide to wage a war against hygiene when you try to take over the world?” Tony winced in mock disappointment. “Sounds a bit small scale to me, no offense.” He held up a hand. “You’ve got to start somewhere though, I suppose. Looks like you won the battle but not the war. But you’re used to that, aren’t you?” Tony stopped walking and looked directly at Loki, letting that last one sink in.

Tony resumed his walking. “How’d you get out of prison anyway? I can’t imagine it was on good behavior. Was it the horse thing?” Tony smiled understandingly. “Yeah, I heard about that. I sent you flowers on Mother’s Day, did you get them?

Loki stayed silent, watching Tony all the while with those attentive eyes of his. “No?” Tony shook his head, sighing heavily in mock-regret. “I knew I should have paid for expressing shipping to Asgard’s Maternity Ward.”

Rumor was that Loki had had a bit of a mishap in Asgard regarding turning into a female horse and birthing a foal. Could it be called a rumor if the information had come from the subject's own kin, Tony wondered amusedly.

Loki brought his hands together and clapped, slow and grandiose. The noise boomed around the tank. “Impressive show, Tin Man. Marvelous performance. I was so pleased when I heard that you were going to be the one guarding me. Captain Steroids and the Black Pest would have glared at me like the dull creatures that they are, and your angry green friend would have fidgeted himself into a rage.” Loki tilted his head. “If I ask nicely, will you give an encore? Or are you like one of those toys that need to wound up to play? The crank is in the back usually, is it not? I'll give you a hand if you need. Or would that be a different show entirely?” Loki stopped speaking and became still again, his icy green eyes alight.

Tony smirked despite the insults, feeling an exhilarated thrill run through him. It wasn't often he had a worthy sparring partner in the game of wit. And Loki apparently had a cheeky side to him, which was an unexpected bonus.

“If there was a price, that's one you wouldn't be able to afford to pay,” said Tony. “Or allowed to. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like 'um wild, but I usually draw the line at bestiality.” Tony held his hands up in front of him. “No hard feelings, right? Are we cool, nay or hay? I mean, yay.”

Loki licked his lips, but said nothing. “I'll take that as a  _neigh_ , then?” said Tony, straight-faced.

Loki looked down and slowly approached the class. “I understand you perfectly, Stark.” He looked up, having reached the glass. “I suppose one must have a certain love for their country to win your favor.”

Tony stopped smiling. He caught himself and quickly looked down. He was amused again when he looked back up. “That is a kink of mine, I guess you could say. What about you?” said Tony, walking up to the tank. “Someone must have to be almost like a...,” Tony looked up, as if he was searching for the right word, and then his face lit up with as he found it, “ _brother_  to get into those black leather pants.”

The two smirked knowingly at each other. Having both made their moves on the chessboard, they waited. It was Loki's turn. His smirk turned into a cunning smile. Tony braced himself. Nothing good could follow that.

“Poor, pining, Tony Stark,” Loki cooed sympathetically. “In love with the world's purest, most beloved virgin icon. It must be so hard knowing you'd be the last person Captain Innocent would be interested in.” Loki looked him over with a scrutinizing eye. “You do rather have the look of being well-bedded about you. The Captain's cheeks must flush red just looking at you.” Loki's eyes raked up Tony's body in a different way this time.  _Devour_  is the word that came to Tony's mind. Loki looked like he wanted to devour him.

Loki straightened back up, the leer leaving his pale face. “I've got good news for you, Stark. I'm going to help you win the Captain's favor.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh yeah? And why would you do that? I never pegged you as a Matchmaker. Did you take up crocheting in prison too? I suppose being a mother does require an extensive set of skills.”

Loki smiled, his lips tight, making a show of letting that one slide. “I've decided that since I'm going to be spending a lot of time around you two now, I'd rather not be subjected to your pathetic pining. It was painful enough to witness when the two of you first met.”

“I don’t recall you being _privy_ to those conversations.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to have noticed. You aren’t exactly Sherlock Holmes.”  

Tony didn't know why Loki was smirking, or how he even knew who Sherlock Holmes was, but he didn't care. “Okay, so what's in it for you?” 

“Why don’t you step inside the tank? It’ll be much easier to talk,” said, smiling invitingly.

Tony studied him carefully. He didn’t know what Loki had up his sleeve by inviting him into the tank, but it was undoubtedly part of an escape plan. Tony nodded. “Okay.” He went over to the control booth. He did not fear Loki escaping. Thor had provided technology that made the tank resistant to magic, and the entire room was on lockdown mode. Even Tony couldn’t get out until Fury got back and entered the code that only he knew. And besides, Tony Stark couldn’t resist a challenge.

Loki hung back against the wall with calculating patience as Tony entered the cell. The glass wall fused back together, showing no signs of an entry point. “Have a seat,” Loki said, ever the perfect host, and held his arm out toward the bed attached to the wall.

Tony stayed standing, his arms folded across his chest. “First, tell me what’s in this for you.”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for true love.” He shrugged as if to say, _‘what can you do?’_ A familiar mischievous glint appeared in his eye then. “And besides, if you don't woman the hell up, Stark and make a move on that sex-on-a-stick Captain, then I'm going to have to do it myself.” 

Tony Stark was not used to being surprised. In fact, he prided himself on being utterly unshockable. However, Thor’s adopted brother was starting to make a liar out of him. Loki was starting to sound like the sassy gay best friend he’d always wanted. He’d asked his father for one for Christmas once. That ended exactly as you might imagine it would.

There was a smirk playing along Loki’s plush, pale lips. He glided (because ‘walked’ was not a sufficient term to describe how the god of mischief moved) a few steps closer to Tony. “And you’d better do it soon, Stark, or I’m going to show your Captain what it’s like to have a seven-some with only two people.”

Tony knew Loki was referring to his ability to multiply himself, and instead of being incensed by Loki’s words, Tony found himself imagining what it _would_ be like to have a seven-some. However, he stopped when he realized the six other pairs of lips on his skin in his daydream still belonged to Loki and not someone more desirable. 

And less insane. 

Tony rested his fist under his chin contemplatively.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I would really appreciate hearing what you think so far. Second and final party coming soon.


End file.
